


Hold Me, Please

by MissBumblina



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Comfort, Depression, Fluff, Gen, I was having a really hard time the day I wrote this so it's purely, Sadness, Self-Indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-22 12:06:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17059472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissBumblina/pseuds/MissBumblina
Summary: Moved from my tumblr, @bumblinas-imagines.It was a hard day, too hard. Your friend, Lucio, is more than willing to come to your rescue though.





	Hold Me, Please

Fat and bright with light, the moon shone down through the misty clouds as they rolled by. The quiet silver glow met the warm noise of the streets below, and you sat somewhere in between. Foot tapping against the fire escape railing, you leaned your head against the cool brick and watched the clouds, trying to spy a star or two if you could.

It was cold, not quite cold enough to see your breath, but cold enough that you tried to every so often. You absently rubbed your face, your cheeks were tight with dried tears and your eyes hurt from the swelling. You were positive that your hair was a spider web of tangles now, but you made no effort to clean up.

You spent what felt like hours out there, growing colder and colder but unable to bring yourself to care. You could practically hear the electricity when the light in your apartment came on, casting yellow beams across the fire escape as it filtered through the blinds. 

All was quiet for a moment before your back door slid open. Slowly, you looked up. It was Lucio, his face riddled with concern. You managed a tight lipped smile, more like a grimace, and looked down.

Without a word, he dipped back inside, returning with an old fleece blanket. He lowered himself beside you and stretched his arm out in offering. You scooted closer to cuddle with him under the blanket and his arm wrapped tightly around your back. 

His fingers gently rubbed your arm as he pulled out his phone. You pressed your cheek against his shoulder and languidly watched his thumb flick across the screen. His fingers were warm as he gently pushed an earbud into your ear, making you look up at him. A gentle, sympathetic smile met you as the music started.

It wasn’t his, you noted, but it was soft and calming. You closed your eyes and leaned into him, focusing on his fingertips brushing your hair back and smoothing over the strands. You breathed in the smell that was distinctly Lucio, coconut oil and the sensation of the wind in your hair, and felt the slightest pull at your lips. He was warm, hot even, like sunbaked river rocks, and you felt the tension release from your brow. 

Your shoulders slumped forward and you wrapped your arms around his middle, nuzzling into his chest as a few cleansing tears spilling forth silently. Though gentle music played in one ear, you could hear his heartbeat in the other. It was grounding. He returned the embrace and pressed his lips against your hair.

The longer he held you, the more the world fell away. The streets below slowly quieted as patrons and store owners retired. The warm light of the shops dimmed and died, leaving you wrapped in moonlight, fleece, and his arms.

Things would be okay.


End file.
